


you gave me a home

by howleht



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, Romantic Fluff, just a couple doing couple things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 05:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12904689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howleht/pseuds/howleht
Summary: Arthur Curry takes a chance.





	you gave me a home

**Author's Note:**

> holy rarepair, batman.

...

 

Arthur waits until they’re the only ones left in the fox.

 

He doesn’t realize that he’s nervous until he says Clark’s name.

 

“Yeah,” Clark says as he begins his way over to Arthur. They’re still in their uniforms, disheveled and dirty but nothing too unearthly happened tonight that could have caused anything major. Clark stops in front of Arthur and puts his hands on his hips; he’s by no means less stoic, but he is far more relaxed when it’s just him and their friends. But it’s just Arthur now and Clark watches him with ease.

 

He’s beautiful. Godly. He could never say these things out loud

 

He realizes fast that he hasn’t said anything for a bit too long. His blood’s racing and he’s trembling slightly. Clark makes a concerned face and steps forward, reaching out but he doesn’t make contact. “Hey, you alright?”

 

There’s a calmness in his voice that melts Arthur, and he doesn't think on it anymore. He takes one of Clark’s outstretched hands, curls his other around his neck, and kisses him softly.

 

For a few, horrifying, long-lasting seconds Clark does nothing. Then he threads his fingers through Arthur’s and responds just as lightly, running his other hand through Arthur’s hair.

 

“Oh,” Clark says once they’ve pulled away, still holding Arthur’s hand. He reaches his free hand up to rest against Arthur’s chestplate, right over his heart. “That explains it.”

 

…

 

Arthur tastes like rough ocean waves against the land that settle into a calm once the tide retreats. His eyes are a beautiful, bright blue, and his hands are warm and gentle against Clark’s fingertips.

 

Clark feels something burn inside of him when they kiss, and he doesn’t remember the last time he felt this way.

 

…

 

Clark Kent has not been on a date since… ever.

 

He’s searching his closets for something nice to wear; nothing too fancy because, well, he doesn’t own anything that fancy. He settles on a dark plaid shirt with some jeans; he runs his hand through his hair to give it a more tousled look and sprays on a hint of cologne. Yeah, that should do it. He doesn’t forget his glasses.

 

Clark super speeds to the door when he hears knocking, and then waits five seconds before opening it.

 

Arthur is standing in the hallway wearing a leather jacket and his hair nicely kempt around him. He looks handsome; he also happens to be holding a small bouquet of flowers.

 

“Hi,” Arthur says with a light smile and then quickly looks at the flowers and back at him. “Uh, here.”

 

Clark takes them, trying to keep his smile from growing so wide it extends off his face. “They’re beautiful, Arthur, thank you.”

 

Arthur stands there with his hands in his pockets and says like he’s thinking about it too hard, “You look… nice.” Clark can hear his heart start to slowly race and thinks _he’s just as nervous as I am._ He wants to assure him it’s okay but then Arthur runs a shaky hand through his hair and looks at the ground. “Sorry, I’m just not good at this. At all. If I’m doing something wrong just tell me?”

 

Clark laughs lightly and steps forward, looking up into Arthur’s eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not good at this either, but I think we can figure it out together.”

 

Arthur’s shoulders ease and his face relaxes. His eyes flutter down to Clark’s free hand, and Clark can’t help but admire his beauty, just for those few seconds. It’s not often when Arthur is this tranquil.

 

Arthur looks back up and his eyes grow fond. “Okay,” he says. He puts a hand in his leather coat and, still somewhat hesitantly, sticks his elbow out but Clark glady loops his arm with his.

 

…

 

They go on a second date. Then a third, and then a fourth, but this time they’re sitting down in a restaurant that’s practically empty, at three in the morning, in a town they’ve never been in. It’s after a mission with the league (which came up before their scheduled date tonight) and Arthur suggested they stay to make it up. They managed to change into civvies, and they’re heavily battered and tired but, and Arthur would never say this outloud, there’s no place he’d rather be.

 

Clark’s smile is radiant. “That’s nice to know. Same here.” Or maybe he did.

 

Clark orders a small thing of nachos as opposed to Arthur’s which was probably big enough to feed the entire league, and he pretends he doesn’t see Clark picking at it.

 

When their conversation dies down a little bit, Arthur inhales and then asks, “Who was the woman that showed up when all the crazy stuff went down?”

 

“Lois. She’s a friend.”

 

Arthur nods. “Were you two ever…”

 

“For a while. It was after the Black Zero event. During. I saved her when we crossed paths in Canada and she had a keen interest in me after that. She…” Clark trails off to tangle his fingers together. “She risked a lot for me. And she was one of the only people at that point in my life that treated me like I was normal.”

 

Yeah, Arthur knew what that was like. “She seemed to pull you back from the brink of whatever that was pretty easily.”

 

Clark keeps looking at his hands. “Because I loved her. But things happen; not everything is meant to be.”

 

Arthur nods to himself and Clark looks back up to stare at him fondly. “But maybe some things are.”

 

…

 

Their next date has them coming back up to Clark’s apartment laughing together, their fingers interlocked.

 

Arthur bids him goodbye with a long kiss, but when he pulls away Clark doesn’t let go of his hand. He stands close and Clark looks at his lips, his eyes half lidded. “Come inside.”

 

Arthur obliges. “As you wish.”

 

…

 

Arthur Curry is not by any means exaggerating when he says that Clark Kent, half asleep at eight o’clock in the morning, his hair a complete mess and his body, which may as well have been sculpted by the gods themselves, completely bare under cotton sheets, is the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

 

Clark’s skin is golden with the sun peaking through the blinds as he asks drowsily, “What are you looking at?”

 

Arthur laughs. “You, you beautiful bastard.”

 

Clark kisses him, then takes advantage of his distracted state to climb on top of him.

 

…

 

The thing with Arthur is he isn’t exactly warmed up to all of the league like he is with Clark.

 

Victor is practically the heart of the team, and Arthur feels like confide in him the most. He admires Diana. Barry is annoying most of the time but his added levity does help. Bruce is… well, he’s Bruce. He still isn’t as open with them as they are with each other. When it comes to Clark it’s a little different; they usually initiate battle together, when Clark is arguing with Bruce Arthur usually takes his side, and he usually levitates towards Clark in any situation. And since they’re dating now (boyfriends? They haven’t really talked about it) he has even more reason to do so.

 

He doesn’t realize how obvious that is until Barry, out of nowhere, comes over to where he’s sat himself on a workbench in the cave’s hangar.

 

“So are you and Clark like…a thing?”

 

Arthur gives him a blank stare.

 

“It’s just that I need confirmation— well, not me specifically, but the rest of us have been, uh, wondering.”

 

“Why do you need to know.”

 

“...Cause we’ve all placed bets.”

 

Arthur rolls his eyes dramatically.

 

“Diana is like sure you two _aren’t,_ same with Vic. Bruce wouldn’t say how he felt about it but his face said it all, and I—”

 

Arthur raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“— am TBD.”

 

“It’s not really your business.”

 

“Yeah! Of course, we’re just really curious and I just felt like, I don’t know, checking up on my teammate, coworker, friend, whatever you wanna, uh.” He stops when Arthur isn’t responding in any way and scratches the back of his head. “Right! So, I’ll just—”

 

He goes to turn around and get up but nearly jumps in the air when he sees Clark.

 

“Oh, jeez, you’re worse than Bruce with that one.”

 

Clark chuckles then looks to Arthur. “Ready to go?” He extends his hand.

 

Arthur looks at Barry then back at Clark and takes his it. “As I’ll ever be.”

 

They walk away together, fingers intertwined, and Arthur only gets to see Barry’s look of shock and him quickly pulling out his phone to text someone.

 

“You’re giving him way too much satisfaction,” Arthur says.

 

Clark shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s nice that it’s out and that we got to see his face when it did.”

 

“Can’t argue with that one.”

 

…

 

“Hey, Superman,” Arthur says into the com.

 

_“Yeah?”_

 

Arthur takes a henchman's gun and breaks it in half. “How ‘bout Chinese tonight?”

 

_“Eh. Not a big fan.”_

 

He dodges a few bullets and knocks two guys out with both ends of his trident. “Italian, then.”

 

_“Sounds good to me.”_

 

 _“No flirting over coms,”_ Bruce’s modified voice growls.

 

Arthur laughs. “Whatever you say, Batman.”

 

…

 

“What happened between you and Bruce?” Arthur asks. It’s mid morning and he has Clark in his arms with the sheets bundled around them. Clark is doing a crossword with his head rested on Arthur’s chest.

 

“What’s an eight letter word for ‘long period of time’?”

 

“Eternity, and stop dodging.”

 

Clark puts the paper down but stays silent.

 

“Sorry. You don’t have to tell me.”

 

“No, it’s just—” Clark rubs at his eyes and turns over more so he can cling to Arthur. “He was a very paranoid person.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“For reasons not entirely unjustified, but.”

 

“What did he do.”

 

“Tried to kill me.”

 

Arthur can’t help that he tenses against Clark. So much for _he died fighting next to me._

 

“What stopped him?”

 

Clark is silent for a second. Then two. Arthur can’t see his face from here, can’t tell what he’s thinking.

 

“Just had a change of heart.”

 

Arthur doesn’t say anything to that. There’s a white hot rage burning inside of him that he lets fade away by carding his fingers into Clark’s hair.

 

“Sometimes it’s easier to forgive,” Clark says.

 

“Yeah, well, I’m not as strong as you are.”

 

…

 

At the next league meeting, Arthur doesn’t dare look at Bruce.

 

…

 

Arthur has Clark on the kitchen counter, his hands on his thighs. He’s kissing Clark with a softness like the first time they did when he says, “The ocean’s pretty nice. Want me to show you around?”

 

Clark smiles against his lips. “Only if you agree to meet Ma.”

 

“As you wish.”

 

…

 

The truck ride into Smallville was serene. Arthur could've gotten lost in watching the corn pass by. Clark’s hand is resting on Arthur’s thigh while he drives and Arthur’s hand is on top of his. Soon enough they’re driving onto a gravel road and a big, wooden house and barn comes into their view.

 

“Home sweet home,” Clark sings as he turns off the truck and gives Arthur a kiss.

 

They walk into the house, hand in hand. “Ma! It’s us,” he announces, and Arthur watches a very tiny lady’s eyes light up when she rounds the corner. It’s like she’s seeing Clark for the first time all over again; she hugs him, and then pats either of his arms while she gives herself time to look him over

 

Clark turns her attention to him. “Mom, this is Arthur.”

 

“Arthur, it’s nice to meet you,” she says and instead of a handshake she just hugs him— a thing he wasn’t expecting. To be honest, he doesn’t know what to expect. He’s never been in an environment quite like this one and the atmosphere just breathes…Clark. But he feels too out of place.

 

“Nice to meet you, Miss Kent.” He clings to the bag hung on his shoulder, his hand trembling slightly.

 

“Please, call me Martha. And you and Clark can set your bags in his room upstairs, I’m sure you’ll make yourself at home in there.”

 

Clark’s room. His childhood bedroom. It’s almost too much, and he finds himself wanting to leave for their sake not his. He thinks there’s no way he won’t mess this up with his mom, and maybe Clark won’t care but _he_ does because this is his mother, the person who raised him to be the probably the greatest hero the world’s ever known. He’s missing Clark’s hand in his right now because it feels like the house is slowly caving in on him.

 

“Arthur, honey, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 

Arthur breathes in, realizes he hasn’t moved from his spot by the front door. Martha is standing next to Clark as he prepares to go upstairs, but he’s still on the first step, watching him silently. He meets his eyes briefly, Clark’s bright blues searching him for whatever’s wrong, and he finds he can’t even say what he’s feeling.

 

“Yeah, sorry I’m just—” He rubs his forehead. “— nervous.”

 

Martha smiles at him and puts a hand on her hip. “Well, that makes sense. But you don’t have to be, I don’t bite.” He doesn’t move from his place by the door and it’s like Martha can see exactly how he’s feeling (like mother like son apparently) because she comes over to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Okay. Why don’t we let Clark take your bags upstairs and let him settle your things, Lord knows he’s strong enough to carry the both of yours, and you can come help me in the kitchen while I prepare dinner?”

 

Arthur… visibly relaxes. He stretches his fingers and lets his body ease away from any tenseness. He looks at Clark smiling wide from his place on the stairs and thinks, maybe it’ll be okay.

 

“Okay,” he says.

 

…

 

Dinner with Martha Kent went unexpectedly than what Arthur would have thought. The woman talked a lot, and he figured this out fast when he was peeling peas with her in the kitchen. And at the table lots of stories were passed around, including one of Clark nearly setting the house on fire when he was five.

 

“Ma, I just burned two holes into the ceiling.”

 

“I know you did, honey, so anyways…”

 

And then Arthur brings up how they didn’t exactly hit it off when they met post-resurrection, with the fighting and all.

 

“First thing he ever did to me was punch me across his monument. And then the second thing he ever did was apologize about it.”

 

“But some things pay off, you know?” Clark said, watching Arthur from his spot next to him. Arthur takes his hand under the table.

 

...

 

 

“Wanna get some air?” Clark asks once they finish their dinner. He motions his head towards the back door. Arthur nods. “Ma, we’re gonna take a walk.”

 

Martha pops her head in from the kitchen. “Okay, well you boys don’t be gone too long.”

 

Arthur chuckles at that. As if they could get into trouble, but he supposes a mother can’t help it.

 

They step out onto the back porch and Arthur takes in the chilly breeze and the night sky filled with stars. Clark pauses to do the same and then extends his arm to link with Arthur’s; a small warmth radiates between them. They walk, their feet making a quiet crunching sound on the grass.

 

“Do you like it?” Clark asks.

 

“Your home? It’s nice. And your mom is definitely not what I expected of a midwestern lady in a town called Smallville.”

 

Clark chuckles. “Yeah, that’s Ma. But I meant right now.” Clark motions his head to the sky. “We’re in the middle of the world.”

 

It is beautiful, Arthur thinks. “Was it nice growing up here?”

 

Clark ponders on this. “Yes. I was lucky to have parents like Ma and Pa. The corn isn’t too shabby.” He crosses an arm over his chest to rest on Arthur’s. “And yeah, the kids were cruel. They could tell I was different, and when you grow up here, ‘different’ meant the worst in their eyes. It wasn’t _easy,_ but this is home. The only one I’ve ever really known.”

 

“You ever feel stuck?”

 

“Hm.”

 

“Between Earth and Krypton.”

 

“I did at first. But I just started believing in making the most of what I have right now.”

 

 _Which is what_ Arthur wants to ask, but Clark turns his head towards him and gives him one of his beautiful smiles that melts Arthur where he stands. It’s too much in one moment with Clark looking at him like that and their arms huddling them close together. He wants to kiss him right now, but instead finds himself whispering, “I love you.”

 

Clark stops walking. His face is unreadable to Arthur, and Clark puts some distance between them without letting go of his arm. His eyes are searching Arthur’s and he can’t figure out what else to say, so he stays silent. Then, Clark steps forward, puts his hand over Arthur’s heart like the first time they kissed, and smiles with soft exhale. “I love you too.”

 

Their lips meet halfway and it feels exactly like the first time.

 

When they pull away, it’s quiet except for the shuffling of the corn and their breathing. Clark wraps his arms around him and rests his head against Arthur’s shoulder.

 

“Yeah,” Clark says. “This is home.”

 

...

 

**Author's Note:**

> "As you wish" was inspired by [this](https://i.imgur.com/T5tyvOO.png) cute comic panel.
> 
> yeah I barely know what im doing
> 
> yay or nay


End file.
